Holden Takes on the World Again
by Wolf Warrior of Writing
Summary: A one-shot. Holden decides to skip his high school classes for a day and visit his old elementary school


I woke up to the sound of some stupid song that all the god damn phonies in the world wanted to listen to when they woke up. I loathe radio alarm clocks. The only thing I hate more are the damned alarm clocks that beep at you to wake you up. I glared at my singing radio clock as I smacked it off my nightstand. It landed on the floor with a heavy thud, and thankfully the stupid song stopped playing. I sighed as I rolled over on my side. I really didn't want to deal with all the morons at school today, especially my math teacher and my supposed advisor. They were the worst, and knew exactly how to piss me off. My math teacher would stop explaining a problem because it had too many steps or was too hard, and my advisor will use any bull shit excuse not to do her job. No wonder so many kids are flunking out of school nowadays. How are we suspected to do our work when we are surrounded by morons that sit on their ass all day? One day I'm gonna hide an AK-47 under my sweater and shoot all the lazy ass staff at the damn school into little pieces. That'll show them to get off their asses. I wasn't going to school today. I needed a god damn break.

I walked briskly through the dewy, overgrown grass of the park next to the old elementary school. What I'd thought I'd do, I'd thought I'd hang out for a while at my old elementary school. The kids wouldn't have recess until noon anyways, so I wouldn't have to worry about being mauled by a bunch of kids. The morning air was cold and crisp, making my walk a bit faster to keep warm.

You wouldn't believe how disappointed I was once I reached my old school. Everything had changed. The old playground had been replaced by a newer, safer one. They even took the god damn swings! The only thing that was left from my childhood was the rusty monkey bars that no one liked because they were covered in so much rust it'd leave rusted stains on your hands. It figured. They left the thing that everyone hated, while they took out a perfectly good playground just because they didn't want kids falling off the damn thing. Didn't they know that kids needed to know when to hang on for dear life and when it was time to let go?

I climbed the only familiar thing left in the playground: the rusty monkey bars. I pulled myself to the top of the metal structure, struggling for a while to get into a sitting position to where I wouldn't slip in between the bars. I finally decided to sit cross-legged. I would have sat on the swings, but you an't get everything you want in life I suppose. My eyes scanned over the blacktop, I smiled as my eyes came to rest on the dreaded Dots. The Dots were a bunch of white dots painted in the formation of a circle on the asphalt. Teachers sent you there during your precious recess if you didn't do your homework, or they felt like being a sonuvabitch. The Dots were situated so that all the children the teachers punished would be sitting in the baking sun, forced to watch all the other "good" children play. It was the elementary school version of Alcatraz. I suppose all the teachers thought it would prepare us for life later on, encourage us to be responsible or something. All the Dots taught me was to resent authority. No wonder the teenage nation is full of angst. It's all the damn Dots' fault. I can't say I blame the morons they call teachers. They're too stupid to know better.

It was quiet. All I could hear was the wind softly brushing my skin and the slight chirping of birds hidden in a tree somewhere near by. I wish it was always this peaceful. No essays to force creative thinkers to stop thinking creatively like the rest of god damn society. No friends squabbling over meaningless things. I glanced at my cell phone to check the time. Old Jane would be in second period now, only one more period until lunch time. I was thinking about giving old Jane a call, but I'd have to wait until lunch time. Lunch is the worst time of day. It really is. There's so much chaos I havet o hang out with two groups, and every single person is a god damn phony. One group will haggle prices for dope while criticizing me for smoking and drinking. The other group is conservative. They don't care if a girl fricken ruins her life because of one little mistake, she isn't allowed to get a damn abortion because its 'murder'. I'd like to see that entire group get knocked up. That'd change their damn tunes. They also tell me that I should look busy, because God is watching. Screw that! If there was a God, I doubt he would have created to many assholes to populate the world. The only reason I even hang out with either group is to watch them mess up their damn lives. It's entertaining as hell. It kills me. It really does.

I pulled out a cigarette and a lighter out of my jean pocket. I lit my cigarette before shoving my lighter back into my pocket. I welcomed the smoke into my lungs. All the fresh air was making me dizzy. I knew I should quit. I really should. I decided that I would quit tomorrow. I'd quit cold turkey. I sat there on the monkey bars, not thinking about anything for a while. I just sat there puffing my cigarette. I must have looked like a real rebel with my cigarette and black sweater. All too son I had to extinguish my cigarette on the metal monkey bars, before I flicked it onto the black top. I leaned forward and stared at the ground beneath my dangling feet. The kids would be let out soon. It was time for me to move on. I grasped the edge of the metal bar, flinging myself off. I was flying for but a moment. Then I came crashing back down to earth again, thankfully landing on my feet. I straightened my back as I marched through the now not so dewy grass. I would be forever marching for my next destination wouldn't I?


End file.
